


The Chalet School Peace League

by angelamulry



Category: Chalet School - Elinor M. Brent-Dyer, Vicky Bliss - Elizabeth Peters
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 03:22:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12497580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelamulry/pseuds/angelamulry
Summary: A Vicky Bliss Non-Murder Story





	The Chalet School Peace League

”You’re what?” I shrieked. John looked at me, calmly. “Schmidt wants me to help him to recover the Chalet School Peace League Papers.” He said. 

“What’s the Chalet School Peace League? And what is the Chalet School?”

John sighed, “I thought you were well read,” he said, “Obviously, Twentieth Century British schoolgirl stories have missed you by. My mother has got the complete set if you ever want to read them.” 

“But how can you recover the original papers? Does the Peace League happen at the end of the series?”

“No, Book No. 14 and there are 58 of them. I am going to have to time travel back to the 14th book. Don’t worry,” he added seeing me look perplexed, “I can do it, with Schmidt’s help. He has arranged it.” 

“What happens in book No.14?”

“The Anschluss and the school, after trying to save a Jewish character, has to close and a group of them have to escape over the mountains to Switzerland and then start the school again in the Channel Islands. However, before they leave the original Chalet School in Austria the pupils sign a Peace League and this is the paper Schmidt wants to recover.”

I looked suspiciously at him, “You seem to know a lot about the Chalet School,” I observed. “And do they sing, “Climb every mountain,” as they leave Austria?”

John shook his head, “This was published in 1940,” he said. “The Sound of Music opened on Broadway in 1959 and the film in 1965. When the Von Trapps left Austria, they left by train. And my mother is a Chalet School addict, there are meetings at her home, booklets, she has even written some fanfiction. I can hardly help knowing the books.”

“What has this got to do with Schmidt?” I asked, determined to go on the internet and find out about these books as soon as possible, was there anything I needed to worry about?

“Schmidt’s girlfriend who died in the war was one of the pupils at the school,” explained John. “He would like to get the original document to keep as a memento of her.”

“Wait a minute, a fictional character from one series would like to get something that only exists in another fiction series?”

“You’ve got it,” smiled John, “But this is fanfiction. Anything can happen, including.” He reached over and started kissing me. No way was I going to let him go into a schoolgirl book adventure without me I decided. I started to kiss him back and then forgot the whole affair.

……………………………………………………..

Schmidt came over that afternoon. He showed me photos of his beloved taken at school. He told me stories that she had told him of the school and I was interested, trying to put these stories into canon. I had found some ebooks of the Chalet School and was surreptitiously reading book No. 14, The Chalet School in Exile. The first half dealt with the Austrian side of the story and I read this with interest if this was where John was going. How would he (and I) fit into this community? I didn’t see any competition for his affections which relieved me. 

I provided Schmidt with plenty of beer and food during the evening and he got very emotional telling us what had happened during the war to himself and his girlfriend. I could see why John had agreed to help him. I still didn’t see how this was going to work and when we put Schmidt to bed in the spare room, I asked John this. He just smiled, “Don’t worry, it will work. You will see me again.”

“Yes I will,” I said, “I’m coming as well!” 

John sighed, “I thought as much,” he said, “How are you enjoying the book?” and he tossed me my Ereader. I glared at him. “If you are coming, you must be sensible and remember that you are in a different time and cannot be so independent.”

“Rubbish,” I said, “In 1926, Madge Bettany starts a school in Austria and you are trying to tell me that she was not independent! I’ll be myself.” 

John shot me a look, “There will be Nazis,” he said, “They will not hesitate to shoot you should you do anything stupid.” 

As if, I told myself.

……………………………………………….

It did work. I don’t know how but when I came to myself I was in Nazi Germany. So was John, so was Schmidt, looking incredibly young and innocent. I hugged him and looked around. We were in the Institute where we both worked but it looked strange, there were Nazi flags everywhere and pictures of the Fuhrer. Gerda came in and I did a double take, not Gerda but someone very like her. “Herr Schmidt, you know this is for staff only” she began and stopped as she saw John and I. Schmidt smiled, “My friends,” he said. “We are leaving in a moment.”

John was looking out of the window. There was an increase of noise outside and I went over to see but John blocked my passage. I was going to complain when he looked at me and I decided to be silent as the group of youths chasing a man down the street passed the institute. “God have mercy on his soul” said John quietly. I looked at him and at Schmidt. What seemed to be a history lesson back in my own era now was very real. I suddenly remembered what he said yesterday and decided to be sensible, well for time being.

The Gerda clone had left and Schmidt explained how we were to get to Austria, it seemed quite an easy bus journey, indeed I had driven along the same road in my own era, although I have never visited the Tiernsee, or as I know it, Achensee. He and John decided to go out and buy some clothes so we would look the part. I determined to keep my own clothes with me as long as possible, especially the underclothes. I remember what my grandmother and mother had told me about their underclothes and I did not want that!

“You’ll need to change that rucksack,” said John, “It’s too modern. You need a proper one now.”

“Surely, everything should have changed when we time travelled,” I complained, “Not much good if not, is it?” 

John grinned, “It’s still in an experimental phase,” he said. “Stay here, don’t go out and keep away from the window. We will return as soon as possible. Read a couple of the books here if you like.” I pulled a face after him, picked up a book, it was “Mein Kampf” and I put it down immediately and then picked it up again. If I was in Nazi Germany I might as well see what it was all about.

On their return, John and Schmidt showed me their purchases for me. Everything I was afraid of about underclothing was true and I refused to wear it, well for the moment anyway. How they had managed to find things that fitted me considering that I am nearly 6 foot tall I have no idea but amazingly they had. It was probably drag. Hitler Youth dressed up as Brunhilde or something. My belongings were changed to the new carpet bag they had purchased, my own spare underwear as well. 

We went out to a restaurant where we had to stand to hear the Fuhrer rant over the wireless. I was getting hungry and Schmidt was getting tearful, this was the time when we were going to part, and we would not see each other for about forty years. I found I had a lump in my throat and looked at John who took my hand and reminded me that they would pass quickly, it had taken a moment to come back eighty years so it would be the same going forward. But it was difficult to think of what was to come.

“So Long, Farewell," I crooned under my breath and John gave me an exasperated look. Schmidt joined in, “Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye,” he continued with a large smile, and we finished the song quietly together while John put his head in his hands.

The charabanc was awaiting us. I looked at it in horror. Never would I travel in that. “Where’s the roof?” I asked. John nudged me to be quiet and pushed me onboard. I was wrapped in rugs, thank goodness and then we set off. It was a slow and tortuous journey as we climbed out of Munich towards the Alps. I had never appreciated my car and modern transport before. “Why couldn’t we take the train?” I asked John quietly, “We are going directly to the Tiernsee,” he replied. It got colder and colder. The Hills may have been alive to the sound of music for Julie Andrews, to me they were alive with the sound of teeth chattering! When the charabanc stopped so we could visit the loos, I took my bag. Those old -fashioned underclothes would be a lot warmer than what I was wearing.

I slept a little and we arrived in the end at Briesau and got out cold and cramped. I wanted a long hot shower. 

“At least we are away from the Nazis for a while,” I said to John, “Where are we staying?”

“You are staying at The Kron Prinz Karl,” he replied “and here is Herr Braun. I am leaving you here. Goodbye” and he slipped away. I was left alone with my bag and felt very alone. “What will this day be like, I wonder” I started to sing, “What will my future be? I wonder” Herr Braun looked at me with suspicion as I twirled around to face him with carpet bag but no guitar. 

“Gnadige Frau,” he started but there was a sudden loud barking and a dog launched himself at me. It was Caesar. Now, I was totally confused. How had Caesar turned up here? 

A young woman came up to me. She had a black hair with a deep fringe across her forehead and plaits in what looked like earphones. Wonder how she would keep headphones on, perhaps she just uses in-ear phones but then remembered there were none at this time. 

She smiled and with a loud voice said, “Is this your dog? He turned up a couple of days ago and we at the school have been looking after him. He doesn’t like Rufus though.” 

I knew this was the heroine of the Chalet School Series, yes, all 58 books of it, Josephine Bettany/Maynard. I was inquisitive to know more about her. 

“Yes, Caesar does belong to me,” I replied, “I wasn’t sure how he got here, thank you.”

“Oh, you’re American,” she said, “We have had a couple of Americans at school, do you know them? Cornelia Flower and Evvy Lannis?” 

I couldn’t resist it, “America is a rather large continent. Who are you?” I asked innocently,

She looked at me as though I was an imbecile. I was still playing with Caesar who was slobbering all over me, “I am Josephine Bettany of course. My sister, Madge Bettany started the Chalet School and brother in law Jem Russell started the sanatorium up there for TB patients. The School is up there now” she flung a hand towards a mountain on the other side of the lake.

“Oh,” I said, “Thanks. Do I owe you anything for looking after Caesar?”

“Goodness, no,” Miss Bettany laughed at the thought. “I’m here to look for a friend who may be arriving on the ferry soon. Good luck with Caesar, Herr Braun will look after you both.” Herr Braun agreed with enthusiasm, allowing me to keep Caesar with me. He was very impressed that I could speak German although some of the more modern German I used was incomprehensible to him. I unpacked in my room, had a bath and wondered what to do next. I decided to sit in the sitting room and see what I could pick up.

At breakfast the next morning Herr Braun told me the history of the Chalet School and the Sanatorium. I was given the whole history which quite relieved me as I had only read one on my Ereader and looked up information on the internet and the second half of Exile just left me cold. Triplets really! And so easily! Totally unbelievable and having met the woman I wanted her to suffer through it. It turns out the Peace League Paper turns up at the end of the book, Dr Jack Maynard having rescued it from the Robin, who I had not met and who I did not want to meet. Wouldn’t mind meeting Dr Jack or Dr Jem though. I was interested to see these Chalet School heroes!

I decided to be a journalist, examining the difference between American treatment of TB and the British, even if in Austria! And therefore, I had to move up to the Sonnalpe.

I strolled round Briesau (Pertisau really) with Caesar and heard a lot about the school. Not a lot though about what was happening in Germany at the moment. Whether that was because I was a woman and a stranger or because people were trying to avoid the conversation. I hung around a couple of bars and got a few looks so gave up and found out how to get up to the Sonnalpe. I decided to leave it a day or so and take Caesar on long strolls around the lake. The air was very energising and I felt a lot better, what with drinking plenty of milk and eating a better diet than I usually did. I had also not had so much to drink, this seemed a more restricted life for women, but John had warned me of this.

I asked Herr Braun if he knew if I could stay on the Sonnalpe as I was writing an article on treatment of TB. He immediately called Dr Russell’s house and got me an invitation to stay with them whilst researching the article. I was stuck, I had not one idea about the treatment of TB unless it was in Ancient times. I could use that I suppose but at least I was able to stay with the owner of the Sanatorium.

The coach road to the Sanatorium took me around the mountains and I could enjoy the views of the Tyrol. I was well acquainted with the German Alps but not the Austrian Tyrol. I was dropped off at the gate of Die Rosen and met by Miss Bettany again. Caesar and Rufus glared at one another and then decided to share their space. I knew that Caesar would not be allowed inside. 

I was shown to my room in one corridor of the house and left to freshen up. I wasn’t sure who else was staying here and where the children were. There were many children and young women staying at this house, I had done my research on that. 

There was a knock at the door and when I answered it the Robin walked in. I’m not going to describe her or rave about her, looked like Disney’s Snow White to me. She asked me to come down and meet the family so I did. 

Dr Jem was talking on the telephone as we walked through the hall; I recognised him from descriptions. I entered the sitting room and found Miss Bettany with her sister, Mrs Russell and a gentleman with his back to me. Miss Bettany introduced me to Dr Jack and John turned around with a blank face to be introduced. I held out my hand limply. How on earth had he got himself to look like Dr Maynard, whom I had never seen and who was described as blond, blue eyes? Yes, it could be but where was the real Dr Maynard?

“This is Dr Bliss,” said Miss Bettany and Dr Maynard raised one eyebrow, he knows I envy him doing that. 

“Dr Bliss? Medical doctor?” he enquired smoothly.

“No, Doctor of Philosophy,” I replied. “But I am writing an article for an American newspaper on the treatment of TB and thought, if possible, I could look round the Sanitorium to get some ideas.”

“Splendid, splendid,” said Dr Jem walking in and shaking my hand, “Absolutely, let’s tell the world what is happening here. Our new regime and the school working hand in hand to eradicate TB. Start with the youngest children and ensure that they are given space in which to play and a diet that is full of goodness.” He droned on all through the meal and John, I mean Dr Jack, just nodded sycophantically throughout. The two sisters and Robin, obviously had heard this before and chattered between themselves about school and family issues. I would have listened to their conversation but had to look interested in what Dr Jem was saying. Luckily the wine was good and I made sure I had a few glasses, John kept topping up my glass. 

Miss Bettany, should I call her Jo?, eventually said, “Dr Jack, shall we take Dr Bliss to see the school?”

“At this time of night?” said Dr Jack in horror. “No, leave it till tomorrow.” Jo reddened and looked down. I would obviously have to give her some hints on flirting! 

We women went into the sitting room leaving the men to their brandy and cigarettes, I couldn’t wait to get away from Dr Jem and decided to give up on the Chalet School men. The women folk looked more interesting but they would be as this was a girls’ school story and would have to have strong characters in it to hold the attention. I wandered over to a bookcase to look at the books there and found “Cecily Holds the Fort” by Josephine Bettany. I decided to quickly skim read it, might give me some insight into the school. Jo found me with it in my hand. “It is based on the Chalet School,” she said, “but some of the incidents are a bit farfetched.“

“Tell me about it,” I suggested and she didn’t stop for the rest of the evening. I got a very comprehensive history of the Chalet School with incidents, accidents and illnesses happening very frequently. What would have happened if Dr Jem had not been on that train and met Madge Bettany. The school would have been finished very quickly. 

I was surprised to see no nursery equipment around, so I asked where the children were.

"Oh, I parked them all at the school," said Madge, having a sip of her drink. "Decided that I wanted a bit of space. I can see them if I want to. At the moment," and she gave me a wicked smile, "I'm enjoying the peace." 

I quite agreed with her and this also explained the appearance of baby Josette.

Bedtime followed shortly and I went to my room. I found that I was alone on that corridor and had peace and quiet to read the book. I didn’t find anything farfetched about it, it seemed positively genteel compared to what EBD had created for the Chalet School. 

There was a sound at my window and I went to open it. John climbed in and took me in his arms. He kissed me softly and pushed me back on to the bed. “Lucky there is no-one else on this side of the house” I muttered, “Too right" he said, picking up the book with one hand whilst the other opened my bath robe. “You want to read this?” I didn’t bother replying. 

“How long have you been Dr Jack and when is the real Dr Jack coming back into the story?” I asked as we lay together in bed afterwards.

“Not for some time,” John answered the second question first, “Once I’ve got the papers I can escape. The real Dr Jack can then reappear. Don’t ask where he is. Schmidt knows and is looking after him. I want him back here before the Gestapo interrogate me/him. “ He sounded incredibly nervous. I thought it couldn't be worse than some of the violence we had experienced in our previous adventures.

I continued, “So, you are involved in the supposed hiding of the Peace League Paper?”

“I think I can manage that, although what an utterly stupid idea. Why didn’t they just put it in the school safe or give it to the Russells to look after?”

“Makes an exciting episode to read and shows the British public the spread of Nazism. Reinforces stereotypes.”

“Says the academic. The original dustcover for this book was removed you know, parents thought it too frightening for their daughters. They hadn’t read the book apparently. Talking of stereotypes, are you going to lead this time, or shall I?”

“I will,” I murmured guiding his head onto my breast. 

………………………………………………..

The next morning the Anschluss took place. I was shocked, I hadn’t realised it was so soon. What would happen to Austria, what would happen to the school? I know, I’ve read the book! So, I went along to the school and met Miss Annersley of the piercing blue eyes, not as piercing nor as blue as his, and the rest of the staff. I found myself wondering whether it would be an appropriate time to teach them to sing “My Favourite things” but decided against it. 

I sat in the staff room with Jo Bettany and listened to these women talk about their lives and careers and felt saddened for them all. The school was to continue as normal and Miss Annersley wanted to know if I could give lectures on archaeology and history for the students as the history teacher, Miss Stewart, would be leaving shortly to get married and would like some time off. I agreed and enjoyed the next few weeks although it was clear that both staff and pupils were aware of the threat posed by Nazism, I was impressed that they spoke caringly of the Germans and made the distinction between Nazism and Germany itself. I found this touching when I thought of what Schmidt was going to suffer.

Nazi administrators were all over the Sonnalpe now, looking into the school curriculum, the staff and pupils. The Sanatorium had a much-reduced staff and patients were leaving.

“They were mainly Jewish,” said John casually when I mentioned it to him, “We got them out as soon as we could. I worked it out with Russell and Schmidt. The whole sanatorium will go soon, can’t possibly keep it going now as will the school.”

“I know, there is a meeting for the pupils tonight,” I said, “This must be the Peace League Meeting. I’ll see if I can get into it. Although as a member of staff I doubt it.”

Try and get on the walk tomorrow then,” said John, “I’ll see you then.”

I couldn’t get into the meeting that night, Miss Stewart and I were discussing changes to the history curriculum for next term. But,luckily, Jo Bettany turned up and was invited in to the meeting. She came to the staff room afterwards and showed us the Peace League. A4 paper, lined, I could purloin that, blue school ink, I could help myself to an Inkwell and a school pen with nib, I hated writing with those but could managed to live with that. 

“Tomorrow,” declared Miss Bettany, "Robin and I are going for a walk and some others from school to the cave we found up on the next shelf. Anyone want to come?”

I immediately said yes. Maybe, “High on the Hill was a Lonely Goatherd” although the Chalet School were forever having drinks of milk and commandeering the huts of these goatherds; They probably barricaded themselves inside if they ever heard and saw the school out hiking!

“I’m going to ask Dr Jack to come with us,” said Joey, OK, so I’ve called her that at last, it slipped out.

“Good idea,” said Miss Annersley, “Then you will have some adult supervision." I thought Miss Bettany was going to burst, she felt that she was adult enough.

The next morning dawned fine and Matron grabbed me to give me a first aid kit, which I was originally reluctant to take, until I remembered that Dr Jack was John. I looked at Matron. Was she suspicious too? She saw my look and smiled. At least one of the Chalet sisterhood had her wits about her.

The girls chattered and fluttered around Dr Jack, I mean John, and I ambled along behind. I managed to keep a straight face at John’s knickerbockers as I had seen the frontispiece. A woman and her son were walking the other way. The little boy greeted the girls with “Heil Hitler” which stopped all conversation. Once past, conversation restarted and arguments ensued. I noted the little boy was following the group. 

We were climbing higher and higher. Mountain climbing is not my thing and I would be glad to be out of the story before the hike into Switzerland. Luckily, we stopped for lunch at that moment, all these baskets! How did we manage to get them up, with flasks of coffee in them? Surely a primus would have been easier and we had to carry them back as well. At this moment someone saw the boy again and a low-voiced conversation ensued which ended with a game of hide and seek as camouflage for hiding the Peace League paper.

I packed up the baskets and agreed to look after them whilst everyone else played hide and seek. I sat on an outcrop overlooking the lake and valley. I was deep in thought when John joined me.

“I’ve about ten minutes until the disappearance of the Robin and Hilary is noticed,” he said.

"Here’s Hermann,“ I said and smiled at him, “Help yourself,” I added in German as he hesitated by the baskets of food. There’s milk or coffee if you would prefer.”

“Danke Schon, Gnadige Frau,” he answered tucking into the food. 

John chuckled. “He’s supposed to steal it,” he said.

“Please,” I said, “He’s a victim in all this and he is only a small boy.” I turned the conversation. “Nice outfit.”

“You can talk,” he replied putting an arm around me. I was still in the Brunhilde costume. “What have you got on underneath all this?”

“Immersing myself in the 1930s. Good passion killers?”

“You can say that again,” John turned to look at me and I took the chance to kiss him. We both paused having heard voices returning. Hermann shot me a panicked look and I waved him away into the bushes. The girls came running back and then they decided who was hiding and who was seeking before disappearing again. I sighed and started to play with the flowers growing in the side of the rock. 

John smiled, “You know what that flower is don’t you?”

“Yes, no, what is it?”

“And you a Sound of Music fan!”

“Not Edelweiss? Really? Are we high enough?”

“Yes, Yes, and Yes, I suppose you now want me to serenade you?”

“I’ll sing with you, come on then. Edelweiss, Edelweiss, every morning you greet me.”

We sang it together softly and it was one of the memories of this adventure that I would remember with pleasure. When we finished, John kissed me gently. I decided to rush into “Something Good” 

John shook with laughter, “No more please,” 

“Just sing the chorus with me please,” I begged, 

“For here you are, standing there, loving me  
Whether or not you should  
So somewhere in my youth or childhood  
I must have done something good.” 

We sang in unison and laughed at each other. 

Then we heard Joey coming back and knew we were back in the Chalet School land and the Robin and Hilary were missing. 

“Good luck with the fabric conditioner comment,” I remarked and John gave me a glare, pulling me down roughly from the rock.

We all searched in vain for the two missing pupils but, as we knew, they were not to be found. John had his hands full with Jo so I took charge of the baskets, exclaiming with everyone else over the missing food and drink. We had a quick snack and then packed up to return to the Sonnalpe. I kept an eye on Hermann and when I had a chance I let him slip away.

Jo really was wallowing in it, I felt like kicking her but couldn’t. Poor John had to help carry her at the end of the journey. Honestly! Then I felt slightly mean because in a couple of weeks she would have to hike into Switzerland and she managed that without all this wailing, as did the Robin. Was she really that delicate? I felt a little guilty because I would be back in my own time by then and was looking forward to be able to resume my normal life. 

Anyway, when we reached Die Rosen, we found that the Robin was asleep in bed. Really, 7pm bedtime for a 14-year-old? And Joey fainted, of course. John played the part of Dr Jack to perfection and just raised one eyebrow at me over Joey’s shoulder as she sobbed out what a solid lump of comfort he was.

Later that evening I was in my room when he came in with the envelope. 

“I abstracted this from Robin’s room,” he said quietly. “Let’s open this carefully.”

“Yes, do,” I said, “I forgot to get another envelope.”

“We need lined paper,” he continued, I produced it, “Blue school ink,” again, I produced it “and pens.“ I produced a nib holder and nibs. He grinned and sat himself at the table in my room.

“Can you copy it all?” I asked, “Yes, it’s quite straightforward and the penmanship is all very similar as they have been taught at the same school but don’t breathe over me whilst I do it.”

I was reading the names. Some of these would not survive the war. Others would. Then I shook myself, this was all fiction. I read the German names with particular care so that if Schmidt ever told us, we would know who she was. We may have met her whilst we were here. I had my suspicions but the photo he had shown us was not the best.

I watched John in silence and suddenly realised how much I loved him, especially because he was doing something really dangerous which could end disastrously. Dr Jack takes the original treaty on the hike to Switzerland but we were going back to Munich with it on public transport! And all this was for Schmidt. A tear trickled down my cheek. John just looked at me and passed me his handkerchief. I knew he knew what I was thinking.

“Better start packing,” he said, “I’m taking you down for the train tomorrow, your parents have demanded your return apparently, and the original Dr Jack returns and I want us out of the way before the Gestapo arrives” 

“And we’re going back to Munich?”

“Yes, by train from Spartz (Jenbach). We are walking down to the lake and taking the mountain railway down. So, start packing and act surprised and upset in the morning when you receive the letter from your parents. I volunteer to escort you down and Dr Jack will meet us at the Mountain Railway and return safely here.”

“Does he know what has happened in his absence?”

“Yes, Schmidt has read him the relevant chapters, so he is up to speed.”

………………………………………………

The following morning, I received the letter from my mother, who at this time would have been 8 or 9 years old, demanding that I return immediately. John, as Dr Jack, offered to walk me down to the lake, promising to return as soon as possible to Joey, who had been dosed with a sedative and made to stay in bed. I said my farewells and left Die Rosen with my carpet bag. 

“Farewell Chalet School,” I said, “Once is enough. So many strange customs, do women actually read these stories?”

“Yes,” said John patiently, “And don’t say anything like that to my mother. She doesn’t like you anyway and this would just antagonise her.”

“I might try a couple more then,” I said. Secretly I wanted to read the rest of the wartime books to see how EBD approached them. We walked down further and I suddenly stopped, “Caesar, I forgot him!”

“No, he’s gone back now. I worked out why he was here and reversed it for him.” Said John. “We didn’t want him in Munich.”

“So, he’s on his own in our Munich?”

“No, he will appear at the Institute and they will look after him. We should be home tonight.”

We walked in silence. John looked at me and said, “You’ve not asked me where the paper is?”

“I don’t want to know, in case anything happens.” I said firmly.

He nodded. “Do you know that there is not one dead body in this story? Nor any violence?”

“Not yet,” I answered, “And after we leave there are deaths in the book. The violence is under the surface, outside in the real world. Any more would be gratuitous.” 

We arrived at the railway terminus and I looked round for Dr Jack who was looking round for John. They recognised each other, it was not difficult, they were dressed identically. John introduced me and I shook hands, nearly wishing him luck for the rest of his life. Must be difficult having all your life written out for you, what would happen if you had a mid-life crisis? At least there was time between all our adventures for us to do something totally different.

We got into the little mountain train and I said goodbye to the Tiernsee (Achensee) and thought I would like to return there one day in my real-life time.

The station in Spartz was for both the main line and mountain railways. We managed to find a First-Class Compartment and John pushed me into it. There were a couple of Nazi officers sitting in there and John immediately spoke to me in English, I responded in the same language and the Officers, assuming we knew nothing about the state of Germany gave us a long speech about the Treaty of Versailles and the rise of Nazism. They tried to convince us of the glories of Nazism and what would happen when they had made the whole of Europe members of the Third Reich and how the British and Americans would be willing to work with Germany in creating this. John played the part of an innocent Englishman perfectly and when the ticket inspector came around, our new friends just waved him away. 

We arrived in Munich, best friends forever and were waved to the front of the taxi rank where we took a cab back to the Institute. Neither of us had spoken on that journey. Schmidt Junior, sorry I mean Schmidt, was waiting for us and took us to his future office. I hugged him again and wished him luck. “You already did that before we went to Austria,” complained John. Then..

………………………………………………………

My mobile was ringing in my pocket as we left the Institute with Caesar who was going mad with joy at being back home again. 

“I want to go straight home and change,” I said, “Schmidt said he would meet us there and I want to wear my own modern clothes again.” 

John sniffed and grinned. "Chalet School girls didn't wash their clothes that much," I said defensively, "nor their hair!" He still looked urbane, menswear hadn’t changed that much, whereas women’s. “Taxi?” he asked.

“I’m not walking around Munich in this!” I answered. 

Schmidt was waiting for us when we arrived and embraced us both, though he did have to look at my costume a second time. 

Once in the house John went into my carpet bag and produced the piece of paper, in an envelope he had crafted out of another piece of paper. My bag! I had carried it all the way home. I was going to say something but Schmidt took it, opened it and sat down reading it. He read the list of names to himself, we were watching to see if he stopped at any, but he read the whole list and then looked up at us his eyes full of tears. We were all hugging and crying at the same time. He then put it away, in a more substantial envelope I found. He thanked us and left.

I fed Caesar and Clara and went back into the living room. John passed me a beer and raised his own. “To Schmidt and all the Chalet School Girls who fought Nazism from within.” He said.

I raised my glass in response. Took a sip and then said, “I am going to change now.”

“I’m coming too,” said John enthusiastically.

In our room. I managed to remove the outer clothing without any help at all. John came over and looked around the underclothes. “How?” he murmured in perplexity. 

I took his hands and put them in the correct place saying,“Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start!”


End file.
